


Take an Inch, Give a Mile

by filthycasualsmark (exalteranima)



Series: The Demon At My Side [3]
Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Confessions, Developing Friendships, Dreams, Fluff, Heart-to-Heart, M/M, Massage, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Self-Doubt, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, Slow To Update, Television Watching
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2017-12-04
Packaged: 2018-11-02 05:32:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10938018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exalteranima/pseuds/filthycasualsmark
Summary: What does the Road to Wrestlemania hold for two dudes in rehab?Snapshots of Seth and Finn's days as they navigate their way through injury, and beyond.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thank the wrestling gods for WWE 24.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter picks up right where Saturn Return left off. The plan (assuming things don't go wrong) is to cover Seth and Finn's time in rehab together and SOMEHOW bridge that to the Raw after Wrestlemania.

So much for an act of bold defiance.

After being turned away from the Royal Rumble — because apparently Braun Strowman could do whatever the hell he wanted but not anybody else — Seth spent another aimless evening stranded in his hotel room doing nothing. Well, mostly nothing. Not even Stephanie could turn him away from Raw the next night, and Seth was determined to grab Triple H's attention even if he had to hold the commentary desk hostage to do it. He thought up ways to get his message across, even coming up with backup plans in case he was ejected from the arena or if more security goons showed up for Seth.

As it turned out, none of Seth's plans were necessary. Triple H himself came out into the open armed with his own bullshit speech about how he was the "Creator" and Seth was the bad guy ruining everything he built. And because Seth was a hotheaded idiot who only cared about revenge, when he marched down that ramp he didn't stand a chance when Samoa Joe came out of nowhere to beat him up and down the ring as Triple H just walked away. 

And now here he was in yet another fucking hospital bed, still dizzy from that Coquina Clutch and knee throbbing with pain anew. After the doctors came in and said this new MCL tear could put him out of action for another two months, Seth buried his face in his pillow and screamed for what felt like an hour straight.

As the first of February rolled on and the rest of the Raw roster left on tour without him, Seth sat shell-shocked on the plane to Iowa, en route home to take care of some last-minute things before flying back to Birmingham to mend his knee. To shake off the numbness, Seth decided to pull out his phone and check his messages. A stream of texts trickled in from his mother, his doctor, his contact at the Performance Center, even some of the guys in the locker room wishing him good luck on his recovery.

Seth hadn't planned on checking his Twitter, already dreading the endless stream of tweets from random fans. But one notification in particular jumped out at him, a name he'd been both quietly hoping and dreading to see. Unable to resist, Seth tapped the small bubble on the screen and opened an unread tweet with two photo attachments. 

 

**Finn Bálor:**

**@WWERollins You've got mail. #getwellsoonseth**

The first picture was the front of a Get Well Soon card, the bottom of Finn's frowning face taking up the top of the frame. Finn had picked out a silly but cute Goofy design, then doodled his own added touches in black marker. Seth was impressed by the faithful recreation of his own logo, and wondered if Finn had any previous art experience. The little "Ouch!!" with the arrow pointed at Goofy's knee also made Seth laugh despite himself. It was only then that Seth realized it was the first time he'd smiled in three days.  _Not since Sunday morning at the Rumble. The last time you talked to Finn._

Right then and there Seth sent Finn a DM thanking him for the funny card. Seth then turned his attention to the second photo attachment, which showed the inside of the card and Finn's simple handwritten "get well soon" message complete with what Seth assumed was a smiley face of the Demon. Just a few minutes ago Seth felt like death; now he couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face if he tried.

A few minutes later a new notification arrived, Finn having sent his own reply:

**Next time we see each other I'm giving it to you in person :)**

Seth read Finn's reply over and over, his wide grin settling into something smaller, softer and more wistful. That old warm feeling in his chest flared up again, and suddenly Seth grew painfully aware of how alone he was on the half-empty plane. Somehow, despite being hundreds of miles away somewhere on the ground, Finn just now made Seth feel far less lonely than he had in weeks, maybe even months. 

Seth stifled a sob as tears threatened to form in his eyes, which he hastily tried to wipe away with his shirt sleeve. He checked the time before stuffing his phone back into his carry-on bag and reclining his seat as far back as he could, closing his eyes in a vain attempt to fall asleep. Seth knew it was pointless: the plane was due to land soon, and even if he could sleep the same stubborn thought that had plagued him for days would be right there waiting for him when he woke up, burned into his eyeballs along with the afterimage of that doodled-on Goofy card.

_What have I done to deserve this?_


	2. Chapter 2

The surgery went much faster than last time. By the end of the week Seth was already puttering about on crutches, counting the hours until his next rehab session.  

"Let's get this over with," Seth muttered as he hobbled out of the airport lobby into the waiting car.

Truth be told, Seth isn't really that close to anyone on the roster anymore. He can put on a happy face when he's goofing around with Xavier on UpUpDownDown, though he can only take the rest of the New Day in small, manageable doses. And he usually leans on Cesaro for pretty much everything, from carpooling to the next town to spotting each other in the gym. Since teaming up with Sheamus, however, Cesaro had settled into a groove Seth didn't want to intrude on. The two traveled together more often, frequented the kinds of seedy bars and pubs Dean would've loved, and Seth found himself feeling more and more like the third wheel in their partnership.   

Whether intentionally or not, the rest of the roster seemed to tread carefully around Seth (if not outright avoid him) ever since the night Triple H betrayed him. Not that it made any difference; everyone else was either on Smackdown Live, an old enemy left over from his time with the Authority, or a complete stranger he treats as a casual acquaintance out of courtesy. And while Roman didn't harbor the same blind hatred for Seth that Dean did, they were still a far cry from anything friendly. Why Mick and Stephanie kept pairing them together against Owens and Jericho all those months, Seth would never understand. 

With Seth out of commission for the next eight weeks, it was depressingly easy for him to blink out of everyone's lives once again. As he stepped out of the car and walked up to the entrance of the rehab center in Birmingham, Seth forced himself to block all those negative feelings from his mind and focus on getting better in time for Wrestlemania. He was going to get his hands on Triple H no matter what.

A staffer lead Seth to the main treatment area of the clinic, which was furnished with a blend of fitness equipment and heavy-duty exercise machines. Beds lined one wall of the main floor, with large wall-to-wall windows that let in plenty of sunlight. Another staffer with a clipboard ran Seth through his schedule for the day, and as Seth stood waiting for his regular physical therapist a familiar voice called out his name.

"Seth? Hey, Seth!"

There was no mistaking that accent. Seth turned to his left and was confronted with a lithe figure in a black t-shirt and basketball shorts, smile as radiant as ever.

"Finn?! My God, I almost forgot you were here too."

"Surprise, surprise. This is where all the cool injured kids hang out, you know."

Seth snickered as he adjusted his grip on his crutches. "How's the shoulder?"

"It's doin' great. Been workin' closely with Dr. Wilk, says I should be in full in-ring shape again real soon."

"That's awesome! You think you'll make it in time for Wrestlemania?" 

"Maybe, maybe not." Finn shrugged, his cheery mood deflating ever so slightly. "I won't know until WWE gives me the green light, no pun intended."

"I mean... it'd be your first Mania, man. You can't _not_ be on that card."  Seth meant every word. Things were getting pretty crazy on Raw as is, but the thought of adding the Demon King to the mix somehow tickled that small, long-buried part of him that delighted in chaos and other people's misery. (Mostly Hunter's. _Maybe_  Samoa Joe.)

"Guess we'll see," Finn said. "What about you? I just feel terrible that it happened so suddenly--"

"Hey, could've been a LOT worse. If I can just regain full use of my legs by April, I'll be happy as a clam. Mania or no Mania."

"That's good... that's a great approach, Seth. One crisis at a time, as my old trainer used to say."

Seth was just about to reply when the staffer with the clipboard returned, confirming Seth's appointment with the physical therapist later that afternoon and handing over a photocopied sheet with his full rehab timetable before heading back to the front desk. 

"So?" Finn asked, already well-acquainted with protocol at the facility. "What's your schedule?"

"Thursdays and Fridays," Seth read aloud from his timetable. "9 to 4 for eight weeks."

Finn laughed. "We're the same. Thursday–Friday, 10 to 5. My rehab officially ends in six weeks."

Now it was Seth's turn to laugh. He can't really be this lucky, can he?

"So I guess we should start workin' on our secret handshake now, huh?" Seth carefully balanced himself on his left crutch for a fist bump. "Rehab buddies?"

Finn's giggle was different from his usual laugh. Lighter, happier, friendlier. "Rehab buddies," he answered, returning the fist bump. "And I believe I still owe you that Get Well Soon card."


	3. Chapter 3

"Seth? _Seth."_  

"Hrmfh?" Seth startled awake, arm still propping up his head on the table.

"You okay there, man?" Finn's eyes looked bluer than usual this morning, wide with concern as he looked Seth up and down. "Looks like you nodded off a bit."

"Nah, I'm good. Just stayed up too late watching TV." It wasn't quite the truth, but Finn didn't need to know that.

"Sorry, force of habit. Rehab is hard enough, don't wanna aggravate it with sleep deprivation too."

"You're such a mother hen, Finn." Seth chuckled as the waitress finally arrived with their breakfast.

They've been keeping up this routine for just over a week now, but it already felt like they'd been doing it for years. Except for the weekends when one of them had to fly home or got called to Florida or Stamford for official WWE business, neither Seth nor Finn felt any real urgency in leaving Birmingham once their weekly physical therapy sessions were done. They'd stay at the same hotel (albeit on different floors), go out for breakfast at the same diner down the street, share an Uber ride to the clinic. 

On days when they weren't attending private one-on-one sessions with their regular doctors and therapists, they spent all day on the main floor working on their supervised strength, conditioning, fitness and cardiovascular training with a bevy of athletes from other sports. Outside of training Seth and Finn were practically joined at the hip, them being the only two wrestlers in the facility at the moment. It was like a weird version of safety in numbers, them being too focused on their recovery and the WWE schedule to interact with anyone else.

"Dude, you've been glued to your phone all morning," Seth said as he sipped his coffee. Black with a teaspoon of brown sugar, just like Cesaro told him once.

"Sorry, just been texting Bayley," Finn looked up from the screen. "Signal went out a bit last night, so I never got to congratulate her for winning the Raw Women's title."

"Man, what is it about Vegas? It's like Raw went nuts last night." Seth kept himself from dwelling on Dean living in Vegas now.

"Tell me about it. Since when did Stephanie tell The Club what to do?"

"Yeah! And what the hell were they thinking with that Emmalina crap?"

"I know! The Emma I knew down in NXT wasn't like that at all!" Finn sprinkled more pepper onto his salad. "Then again, I guess I shouldn't have been surprised when Owens betrayed Jericho like that."

Ah yes, the Festival of Friendship segment. Seth gulped at Finn's mention of it. Struck too familiar a nerve, brought back too many bad memories.

"Yeah..." Seth mumbled. "That was pretty crazy." 

"All that was missing was a rigged roulette wheel for booking matches." Finn ate contentedly, not noticing Seth's darkening mood at first. "At least Smackdown is in Anaheim tonight. Worst you can expect is some bad Disneyland jokes."

"Heh." Seth finished the rest of his meal in silence, waiting for Finn while he finished texting and eating. They split the check as Seth drank the last of his coffee.

"Seth? You sure you're okay?" Finn asked in a worried tone.

"Yeah, still a bit groggy. Just waiting for the caffeine to kick in. You ready to go?"

"Yep." Finn pocketed his phone, having already called in an Uber for them. They slid out of the booth and stepped outside, waiting for the car at their usual spot on the sidewalk, right under the lamppost.

"Oh, I almost forgot." Finn reached into his jacket pocket and handed Seth a lone Hershey's Kiss with a bright red foil wrapper.

A baffled Seth held up the sweet between his thumb and forefinger. "What's this?"

"Free chocolate, compliments of the diner." Finn smiled. "Happy Valentine's Day."

 

* * *

 

A WWE camera crew was at the clinic today, tailing both Finn and Seth to document their recovery. _Probably working on a new network special for Finn_ , Seth thought as the crew filmed and interviewed Finn's physical therapist on the hallway outside. Seth's mood vastly improved after a few reps on the machines, that familiar endorphin high from a strenuous workout coming back as he'd sweat and stretch his muscles. As always he took great care with his knee, monitoring his movements and making sure he didn't shift his leg wrong. Finn meanwhile was seated on one of the beds against the windows, lifting weights as another staffer recorded his progress.

They were both accustomed to being followed around by a film crew, going about their business training and making small talk with the clinic staff while trying to avoid all the men with massive cameras, wires and shooting equipment just out of eyeshot. At some point Seth was moved to one of the beds for a quick rest. He occupied the empty bed on Finn's left just as the other man put down his weights and laid back for a break of his own.

"You looked really off this morning, Seth. You sure you--"

"You can stop your worrying, alright? I just... got a lot on my mind lately."

"Anything you can tell me? Or is it confidential WWE business?"

"Something like that, yeah. It's fine."

"If you say so." Finn glanced at something behind him and snorted into peals of soft laughter.

"What's so funny?" Seth asked.

"The wall between us. I guess the camera crew insisted on it."

Seth looked up to his right and groaned, recognizing the autographed Triple H poster that usually hung in Dr. Dugas' office. 

"I swear, even when Hunter's not here I can't get away from the man."

"I am so sorry Seth," Finn croaked out as he struggled to contain his giggles. "I'll tell the crew to get rid of it if it makes you uncomfortable."

"Eh, fuck it," Seth said, determined not to let a garish green poster of Hunter's old mug ruin his day. "Where's your phone?"

"Why?" 

"Let's post the sumbitch on Twitter. Screw kayfabe, I'm sure the fans will get a kick out of it."

Finn laughed even louder. "Sure, why not? Let's do it."

They asked the staffer from earlier to take a picture of them, Finn handing over his phone and switching to the Camera app. They did matching thumbs-up and cheesy grins as they held still for two to three shutter sounds. 

"Wishing you a happy Valentine's day, Bálor," Seth said as Finn composed the tweet and attached the photo.

"Happy Valentine's day to you too, Rollins," Finn answered as he tapped his screen, publishing the tweet for his millions of followers to see.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the erratic updates. This is a continuation of the last chapter, a bit talkier than usual. As always, feedback is welcome and much appreciated.

Finn and Seth's little Twitter stunt went over like wildfire, the response from the fans overwhelmingly positive. Seth couldn't resist tweeting a cheeky _Stepbrothers_ GIF reply from his own account, causing Finn to nearly break out in tears laughing. 

Once they came down from their shared giggle fit, they laid back on their beds and settled into more casual conversation. They talked about past injuries, in-ring accidents they heard about from other wrestlers (Seth cursed in shock when Finn told him about his friend who lost a testicle in a ladder match), then moved onto more pleasant stories about their favorite matches from the indies.

Eventually the cameras were trained on them again, the mics picking up their every word. Finn sensed Seth's growing discomfort at their private talks being caught on camera, wondering if maybe he was paranoid about a certain someone in management watching the footage and learning something intimate about him. Finn took the initiative to steer their chat back to more innocent territory.

"So how're you feelin'?"

Seth's tired but relieved smile spoke volumes. "Life's good, you know? I mean, could be better..."

This went on for a few more minutes, Seth's mood growing lighter by the moment. Once the camera crew had captured enough footage, they went back to roving the facility and interviewing other patients and staffers. Seth breathed a sigh of relief before sitting up, covering his face with his hands and quietly cursing under his breath.

"Seth?" Finn asked, more worried than ever. "Is everything okay? What's wrong?"

"Everything's fine. It's just..." Seth took a long, shaky breath before answering. "They're bringing me in for Raw in two weeks. Not to wrestle... just for an in-ring promo, I think."

"You're worried it's a trap."

"Of course it's a fucking trap. It's Hunter, still pulling the strings like he always does. He's not called the Cerebral Assassin for nothing."

"You don't have to do it, you know," Finn reassured him. "Just say you're still rehabbing. Or do it via satellite or something."

"I can't," Seth croaked. "It's the fans. They knew I was gonna face Hunter in the ring the moment he betrayed me. They knew it had to happen at Mania. Hell, I _want_ it to happen at Mania, more than anything. If my knee doesn't get better in time..." The younger man sighed as he ran his hand over his face. "I need to be there in person to give them the bad news."

"You don't know that's the case yet. Seth, the doctors said you're doing great. You'll make it on time, I just know it. And you know what else? You're gonna _beat_ Hunter at Mania, and you're gonna be a fuckin' badass doin' it."

"I really hope you're right, Finn. It's just... Hunter I can deal with. But he's not exactly working alone, you know?"

"Samoa Joe?"

"Yeah. Shit, he's the reason I'm sitting here talking to you instead of being on the road and doing what I love."

Finn tsked, sat up and rested his weight on his hands while staring off into the distance.

"I wish I could give you better advice, Seth. Joe is... dangerous. When he sets his mind on something, it's not pretty for anyone standing in his way."

"I mean," Seth said, "I fought Joe before. It was, what, nine years ago? Back when we were still in Ring of Honor. But I don't remember him being _this_ ruthless."

"God, how do I explain it?" Finn's chuckle was bitter, helpless, racked with nerves. "I think it started when Joe first joined NXT. He was excited to finally sign with WWE, biggest wrestling company in the world, and of _course_ the first thing he did was go after the NXT Champion. He probably would've beat Owens for the title right and there, and... I think he never forgave me for becoming champion before he did, stealing the spotlight away from his WWE debut. One day he just snapped and stopped hiding his jealousy. There isn't a day I don't think about all those times I fought him defending that title, all the terrible things we did to each other–"

"How could you let him do that to you?" Seth asked incredulously. "You've known Joe for _years_. He was your tag team partner, even. And he did all those things to you just because of that belt? How the hell are you _not_ beating each other up on sight like Zayn and Owens?"

"I guess... because I knew where Joe was coming from," Finn said. "I _was_ that guy once. I _was_ that jealous idiot who beat up and humiliated his best friend because he thought holding a title was more important."

"I don't understand–"

"You know your New Japan, Seth. I'm sure you remember who Ryusuke Taguchi is."

Oh. Of course.

God, Seth was an idiot.

"I was insufferable after I pinned Tanahashi that first time," Finn continued. "Still don't know how the hell Taguchi put up with me. You support your tag team partner even when he's losing his damn mind and this is the thanks he gets. I look back on it now and it still feels like some weird dream, me turning into some sick fuck who thought beating people up was funny. I remember when Taguchi got injured at Best of the Super Juniors, it got... easier. Easier for me to go on doing what I was doing, being a right arsehole to everyone just so I could call myself the best. Out of sight, out of mind, as they'd say."

Finn's voice grew softer, quieter. "I guess... Taguchi was my conscience, weird as it sounds? Even back in Apollo 55 we took turns being the sane, sensible one. Yeah, I know right? The Funky Weapon who shook his arse and wrestled with an afro being the sensible one." He laughed at the thought, as if savoring an old memory. "That was just how we worked for years. We weren't always close, didn't even have much in common, God no. But... it's like we understood each other, you know?"

"Yeah," Seth said, voice reduced to a whisper. "I do."

"It's funny." Finn rubbed the back of his neck. "I hardly ever tell other people that. They know my history, sure, but... I never really talked about how I _felt_ about the whole thing. I only ever told a handful of my closest mates. Guess I'm still not done getting over it, does that make sense?"

"Perfectly." Seth rested his elbows on his knees, his posture sinking lower than ever. He sensed the other man get up to sit beside him, felt the weight of Finn's hand resting on his shoulder.

"You wanna talk about it?" Finn asked.

"I... n-nah. I dunno man," Seth stammered and shook his head.

"Seth, it's okay if you don't... but do you trust me?"

Seth turned to look at Finn's kind smile. He willed the shivers to go away, felt his chest constrict and his breath shorten like he was caught in that Coquina Clutch all over again. Seth thought back to that day in San Antonio, hours before the Rumble. Back to that crazy fleeting moment he was frightened of Finn being another one of Hunter's puppets.

_Would Finn do something like this if he worked for Hunter? Would he be so cruel as to get you to spill your soul just so Hunter would have ammo to use against you?_

_Do you really want to live in a world where Finn's kindness was a lie?_

As Seth felt his eyes grow wetter, he realized. _No, I don't._

"Do you trust me, Seth?" Finn repeated, his tone gentler like he was comforting a child.

"Yeah," Seth answered. "I do. But it's not you that's the problem, it's me." Figures he'd spit out the same tired but true line he'd used on nearly all his exes.

"Hey," Finn beckoned Seth to look him straight in the eye again. "It's like I said: one crisis at a time. You don't need to tell me anything except when you're ready. Got it?"

Seth nodded his head, his reply reduced to a soundless puff of breath from his mouth. This close he could appreciate the finer details of Finn's face, details once obscured by an angry heart and a demon's war paint. The scar on his forehead. The scruffiness of his beard concealing the sharpness of his jaw. The contours of his nose and brow. The shape of his chapped lips. 

Finn's alarm sounded, signaling the end of their break. Finn groaned as he turned away from Seth and reached for his phone.

"Guess we should get back to work, yeah?"


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update is way too short and I sincerely apologize to anyone still reading this. I am still working on the next (proper) chapter of this, I swear. 
> 
> As always, feedback is welcome and much appreciated. If there's any distracting typos and formatting errors I'll appreciate calling attention to them too.

Seth hasn't had vivid dreams about his crushes since high school. 

He dreamt he was at a house show wrestling Finn, which was doubly strange since neither of them were the bad guy in this match. It oddly brought back memories of NXT, where two guys could wrestle just for the sake of seeing who was the better wrestler and putting on a great show for the fans. No championships, no grudges, no Hunter, no macho bullshit. Just two world-class athletes standing in a ring under the sweltering bright lights of the arena.

They had just opened their match with a lockup when Finn pushed Seth into the corner, breaking into a cheeky smirk before too-sweeting him in the forehead. Seth could feel the vibrations in the ring as the crowd broke into deafening cheers all around them, the referee counting down to five to break up the hold. 

That's when Seth does something he'd  _never_ do in a match like this: he laughs. Laughs like the referee and the fans and all the ringside crew didn't exist, laughs like this was another private joke shared just between him and Finn. Laughs like all the anxiety and tension of the last eight months leeched out of him, like he'd finally recovered some measure of peace and contentment in his life.

And what's crazy is that Finn was laughing right along with him, the corners of his eyes crinkling and his giggle sounding just like it would when they would horse around during rehab. After a while their laughter petered out, a wave of shame overcoming Seth anew as he turned his head down at the canvas dreading the other man's reaction. But Finn's grin instead softened into a small but fond smile, his eyes radiant with some emotion Seth is too scared to name. 

Finn raises his hand to Seth's face, running a thumb along the seam of his lips before gently nudging his chin upwards. Seth can hear his own breaths, feel his chest heaving and his face contorting into a wordless plea he desperately hopes the older man would answer. Finn's fingers briefly dance along Seth's cheek, at which point his hand reaches to grasp the top rope for balance as he leans in and presses their lips together.

Seth remembered little about the actual details of this part, his dream-state brain too fuzzy to register the heat and pressure and friction and all the other physical sensations that normally came with a real kiss. But what Seth did remember was how _right_ it felt, how his heart seemed to both burn up and fizzle into thin air as Finn's body pressed him against the top turnbuckle. Seth recalled his arm reaching around Finn's shoulders to pull him closer, the wet smacking sounds as a breathless Finn came up for air and then inclined his head to kiss Seth again.

Like so few other good things in Seth's life, this moment seemed to stretch into forever. Up until the very last second when he woke up.

 

* * *

 

For a few moments Seth let himself linger in the sweet afterglow of the dream, the delirious happiness and relief that came with not having to hide his true feelings anymore. The starchy detergent smell of his bedsheets and the weak morning light peering through the edges of the window drapes however brought Seth crashing back into reality: he was lying in bed in his hotel room at Birmingham, due for another mind-numbing day at the clinic with a busted knee, trying to prevent the end of his wrestling career and childhood dream. And he was alone, Finn slumbering peacefully in his own suite somewhere two floors up, clueless that his colleague from work was having hot-as-fuck dreams about him.

_No. Don't do this._ _You and Finn are friends now. Stop ruining it._

Seth released a few tense quivering breaths, gripping his chest to massage and ease some inexplicable tightness there. Without bidding he lifted his fingers to touch his lips, the ghostly tingling sensations flooding his mind anew with pictures so vivid and unbearable it was causing his blood to rush in places he didn't want it to. 

_You can handle this, Seth. Don't do anything you'll regret._

_You can't afford to lose him too._


	6. Chapter 6

"A-ah—" 

"I said hold still." 

"Wait, Finn, it really hurts—" 

"Hold. Still." 

"Oooooh... mmmm."

"That's it. Good boy, Seth."

The strong scent of menthol filled the air as Finn rubbed liniment onto Seth's sore muscles, long-fingered hands massaging the meat of his shoulders. They took up a quiet corner of the bed area while half the patients and staff went out for lunch, leaving the clinic's main floor with only a handful of people. 

All wrestlers have done this at some point, helped each other with any too-hard bumps and hits incurred in the ring. This extended to aches outside the ring too, like spraining something at the gym or getting into a fight at the local dive bar. Seth had certainly done this enough in the past for Dean, Roman, even Randy a couple of times. Still, he felt strangely blessed that it was Finn attending to him like this, feeling the man's body heat so near as those hands touched him so intimately. 

"I know it's not all that different from Ben-Gay, but this stuff is just magic for some reason," Finn said.  

"How the hell did you get your hands on Tiger Balm Ultra in Alabama?" 

"I know a guy. Well, Darren knows a guy, if we're bein' specific." 

Some variety was added to their weekly routine at the clinic when Darren Young started joining them on workouts, his rehab regimen changed after recovering from an injury of his own. Seth was going to miss having Finn all to himself, though it was nice that they could stick together as their own little all-wrestler posse. Seth spotted Darren off to the side doing bicep curls, deep in concentration while a trainer tracked his progress nearby. Seth shook his head and sighed dejectedly, which didn't escape Finn's notice. 

"What's on your mind, Seth?" 

"Another Tuesday, another Raw without us on it." 

"Amen," Finn joked, eliciting a chortle from Seth. They got to talking about the previous night's episode as Finn moved on from Seth's shoulders to his lower back. Okay, maybe he wasn't _really_ that sore there to begin with, but Seth wasn't going to waste an opportunity to keep those glorious hands on him. 

While everyone on social media wouldn't shut up about Big Show wrecking yet _another_ ring during his match with Strowman, Finn got most tickled by the contract signing between Neville and Jack Gallagher for Fastlane. Even Seth couldn't help but snicker at all the aggressive Britishness going on during that segment, and they both shared a laugh speculating over whose idea it was backstage to bring tea and biscuits to the ring. And in fucking Los Angeles, of all places.  

In the back of his mind though, Seth knew Finn was trying to distract him from his upcoming appearance on Raw next week, keeping him from getting his thoughts too muddled by the threat of Hunter showing up. It was a thoughtful gesture, even if was kind of futile. Then again maybe Finn was being a supportive friend keeping his spirits up, because _that_ was just the sort of guy he was. 

"As big of an arse as he's bein' right now, I'm real happy for Neville coming this far," Finn said. "Feels like only yesterday we were going out for beers and sushi after one of his Dragon Gate shows." 

"Y'ever wrestle Ga - _ah_ \- Gallagher before?" Seth asked, suppressing his groan mid-sentence as Finn worked a knot just above the base of his spine.

"Nah, never really had the chance to. But he's from Progress, which means he's real good. Amazing guys, all of 'em." 

"Do you miss it? Wrestling in England?" 

"Of course I do. Few things beat a small but passionate indie setting, and UK crowds are fantastic." Finn stopped to reach for the jar, rubbing more balm onto his hands before resuming work on Seth's back. "It's all the guys I worked with who I miss most, though. Sure, Noam's a Cruiserweight now and Damo's down in NXT, but it still sucks not seeing the others much anymore. Grado, Moss, Samuels, Devlin, Mastiff, Jester, Scurll, even fuckin' Jimmy Havoc. Oh, and Zacky of course." 

Seth latched onto that last one, that one affectionate nickname. _Zacky._  

The notorious Zack Sabre Jr. 

Whenever Finn could get away with not wearing official WWE or Tapout merch around the clinic, it was always 1. some colorful tee with a goofy geek design, 2. those plain polo shirts both he and Neville seem to favor, or 3. a ZSJ shirt. It was practically common knowledge the two were close friends, if their Twitter and Instagram posts whenever they were in the same city were any clue. 

Still, Seth couldn't _not_ wonder. 

"So what's the deal with you and... Zacky." 

"What about me and Zack?" 

"Like, I know you're friends, but did you two ever... you know. Do  _that_ stuff." 

Finn paused his ministrations, raising his eyebrows at Seth's question. "Are you asking if we're—" 

"You know what? Forget it." Seth shook his head, backpedaling as quickly as he could. "It was a stupid question." 

"Seth—" 

"Forget I said anything, alright?" he said much more loudly. "Probably none of my business anyway."  

"Seth, it's fine, really! I don't mind you asking, I trust you. Just caught me by surprise a bit, is all." 

"... oh," Seth said sheepishly. "Sorry, I-I didn't mean to be a jerk."  _No point being jealous of someone who has more claim to him than you anyway._  

Finn patted the hand resting on Seth's thigh reassuringly, having grown accustomed to his mercurial moods by now. "I've known Zack for years. We came up together in Hammerlock, and even then he was ridiculously dedicated for a kid his age. I love him to death, he's probably one of the ten guys I'd want watching my back in a zombie apocalypse." 

Seth chuckled at that, relishing the bizarre Dean-like truth to it. _If you can't trust someone in a zombie apocalypse, it's not love._  

"As for whether we, uh, _did stuff._ " Finn bit his lip in thought as his leg shook in place. "Zack and I were never... official. Never really labeled it. We trust each other with a lot, done the dates and the kissing and fooling around for a while. But God, that was years ago. I guess we just didn't click that way. He's been seein' this girl in New York, though. She's really nice." 

Seth listened carefully to Finn's tone of voice. He didn't sound all that torn up over Zack dating a girl. Hell, Finn sounded genuinely happy for his friend. And hearing the confirmation that he  _had_ dated other guys made something clench in Seth's chest. Finn seemed real careful with his words though, avoiding present tense all throughout. 

"So... you're not seeing anyone right now?" 

"Nosy, aren't ya?" Finn replied cheekily as he resumed massaging Seth, now moving on to the arm muscles and joints. "But nah, still haven't really gotten the hang of balancing relationships and wrestling." 

Finn slowly slid his hands up Seth's arms, hands stopping at his shoulders while murmuring close to his ear. "Would be nice to do both at the same time, you know?" 

That caused Seth to do a mental double-take, never mind all the butterflies flitting about in his stomach just now. Was Finn... flirting with him? 

Seth gave up suppressing his wanton moans as Finn dug into the meat of his right bicep, those expert hands moving confidently against his skin.  

_Fuck it. Let Finn think it's the Tiger Balm doing its work._


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After fifteen years, this FINALLY gets an update. 
> 
> Apologies for the near-nonexistent progress everyone. Writer's block and real life getting in the way and all that. Will be making some tweaks to the original plot I mapped out, and with any luck I might try and wrap this up three or four chapters from now.
> 
> As always, feedback and constructive criticism is welcome.

Seth prided himself on being an observant guy. He was good at that: noticing tells, pinpointing mannerisms, fixating on patterns, spotting the germ of a routine being formed. When it came to his friends, Seth _liked_ to believe he was the first to notice whenever things were a bit off. 

He could write a dissertation on all the annoying little things Dean did with his face whenever he was bored in the car, the way Roman alternated between clenching his fists and wiggling his fingers in that pause before they stepped out into the crowd. He remembers Kane looking at himself funny whenever he saw a reflection of himself in a suit, Joey and Jamie nervously telling cheesy knock-knock jokes to kill time until Seth's big matches, Randy fiddling with his phone every 9:30 to text his kid, even Stephanie adjusting Hunter's tie right before they exited gorilla to open the show. He remembers the way Big E and Kofi would quickly pat Francesca for luck right before their music comes on, or how Cesaro raises his coffee cup in a "cheers" motion to some unseen spectre on his first sip.

The point of all these things was this: when it came to the people Seth surrounded himself with, he learned to accustom himself to their patterns easily. And over this past month, Finn was no exception. 

There was a pattern to how Seth and Finn's day often went down at rehab. They'd text each other in the mornings to meet up at the hotel lobby, then walk to their usual diner for breakfast. After finishing their meal, wrapping up their small talk and paying the check, they'd share an Uber to the sports clinic. They'd separate at the door of the main gym to start their own tailored training regimen, then meet somewhere in the middle during the weights or squats part of their routines. They cataloged the tiny aches and tweaks they'd accumulated for the day, swapping the obligatory squawks of concern over how Seth's knee or Finn's shoulder was doing. Sometime around noon their talk starts drifting to the other people they'd met at the gym that day, or that week's Raw and Smackdown, or whatever news or meme they'd seen on the internet that morning. They'd separate again in the afternoon for their one-on-one physical therapy sessions, then rejoin at the exit and share another Uber back to the hotel discussing the cheapest, healthiest restaurant they were ordering that night. They'd grab their dinner, say good night, go back to their hotel rooms and do the whole thing all over the following day.

Throughout all of these he'd notice how bare-bones Finn's meal portions were, how he'd tap his shoe on the pavement while standing on the sidewalk, he he'd quietly rap or beatbox under his breath in the car when he thinks noone is listening, how he grunts while lifting weights and doing push-ups, how he'd loudly laugh his adorable giggle for a few seconds before instantly lowering it back down to a more discreet volume, how he'd fake-yawn before patting Seth on the arm and turning in for the evening. 

Most distracting of all, though, was how much Finn would lick his lips. Ever since his dream, all Seth could think about was how badly he wished he could kiss Finn, how much he wanted it all this time. He wasn't even picky about exactly _where_ the kiss was. Finn's lips were irresistible, of course, but Seth would've been just as content kissing his feet, or his hand, or his cheek, or his neck, or—

How long has he wanted this, exactly? Seth scoured his brain in search of the exact moment his crush went from aspirational to something far less platonic. Finn's main roster debut? SummerSlam? That Raw in Corpus Christi? That video package where Seth spontaneously visualized an entire parallel future where he would lovingly tease Finn about geeking out over Irish legends?

Well. No use dwelling on  _that_  fantasy.

Seth was good at adapting to other people's changes in behavior, however drastic or minute they may be. But ever since that day with the Tiger Balm, Seth couldn't help but notice that Finn was opening up to him less and touching him more.

Ever since they did rehab together, Finn almost always told Seth some wrestling-related anecdote from his days in Europe, Japan or NXT. Whether it was to share a funny story or make some insightful observation about the business, Seth cherished and hoarded these firsthand glimpses of Finn's life before that fateful SummerSlam. These stories were how Seth learned about Finn's true feelings about distraction roll-ups, the reason he never got to work PWG, or that full month he kept calling the Young Bucks "Matt Buck and Nick Buck."

Seth enjoyed Finn's stories, and it wasn't until they stopped being a fixture of their days at the clinic that Seth realized how much he missed them. Finn was no longer as forthcoming with personal details about his past, but he did grow more generous with the friendly hugs, back rubs, pain-relieving massages, even the one cheeky butt slap right after a shared session on the treadmills.

All of these changes within the span of just four days unnerved Seth greatly, and he still wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to react to them.

 

* * *

 

"See you next week, Darren!"

"Yeah, have fun at that reunion thing!"

Seth and Finn waved goodbye as Darren's taxi sped down the road, driving him to the airport. It was late Friday afternoon, the end of another week of rehab as they were both due to fly back to their respective homes the next day.

They stood on the sidewalk a moment longer, gym bags at their feet as they waited for their Uber ride back to the hotel. Finn scrolled through some messages on his phone, making small talk about that day's progress while lightly holding Seth's lower back.  

_He's just being friendly_ , Seth thought to himself as he felt the weight and heat of Finn's hand through his shirt. _Or he's keeping you from wandering too far from the curb._

When the car arrived, the both threw their bags in the footwell before climbing into the backseat. "Watch your knee," Finn muttered as he helped Seth into the car, his hand a constant weight on Seth's side.

"Thanks," Seth said, struggling to keep his voice neutral as Finn's hand left his body.

What should've been a five-minute trip took a leisurely ten to fifteen minutes as they wove through evening traffic, just barely beating rush hour as the sun was setting outside. Their driver asked if he could turn on the radio, and the two of them nodded as the car was soon filled with twangy, melodic guitar licks and a man's soulful tenor. Finn closed his eyes and swayed to the music, trying to hum along to the ballad.

"This sounds so familiar, you know what band this is?"

"Pretty sure it's the Black Crowes?" Seth answered. "Genre's called blues rock or whatever."

"It's good..." Finn grinned widely at the song. "It's nice."

It _was_ nice. It almost made Seth wish he was the one behind the wheel, and that he and Finn were on some lonely interstate in the middle of nowhere rather than on some crowded city street in downtown Birmingham. Just them and the highway, like in all those road trip movies Seth used to watch with his brother growing up. Seth felt Finn's hand tapping along to the music on the seat between them, grazing the cloth of Seth's jeans. Seth gulped as Finn shifted along the backseat until they sitting shoulder to shoulder, fingers lightly tapping on Seth's thigh as the music played.

 

_And on a good day_

_Well, I know it ain't everyday_

_We can part the sea_

_And on a bad day_

_Well, I know it ain't everyday_

_Glory beyond our reach_

 

"This is actually a pretty cool band," Seth said. "I could give you some song recs if you want."

"Sounds awesome, I'd like that."

Seth was too tired from rehab to parse Finn's word choice. Instead he lost himself in the song while resting his head against Finn's, their car crawling through traffic as night fell.

 

* * *

 

Seth and Finn slid their bags across the polished marble floor as they stood in the hotel lobby, patiently staring up at the LED screen atop the elevator doors as orange numbers counted down from double to single digits. They both snickered as their eyes momentarily wandered and fell on the same ugly still-life painting of fruit at the end of the lobby, a three-week-old running joke between them. 

"Hey Finn, you doin' anything tonight?"

"Not really. Just gonna head up to my room, watch TV, maybe turn in early. Why?"

"You..." Seth gathered his thoughts before he got cold feet. "You wanna maybe hang out in my room instead? We can catch a movie on cable, or watch the Network on my laptop. Or I can hook up my Netflix to the TV—"

"Netflix and chill with Seth Rollins? Hmmm, let me think about it..."

Seth playfully shoved him in the chest. "I'm serious! It gets so fucking boring here sometimes and it'd be nice to have some company for a change."

"Definitely with you there... sure, I'd love to."

"Really?" 

"Yeah, just lemme drop my gym stuff off at my room and I'll come back down. We can order takeout or room service for dinner."

 

_It's no big deal, no big deal,_ Seth muttered to himself as he paced in his room later that night, awaiting Finn's arrival as he flickered through TV channels with remote in hand. Despite his anticipation the knock on the door still caught him off-guard, and Seth took a couple of light breaths. (Not to calm himself down, he wasn't some goddamn giggly schoolgirl with a crush.)

At the sound of knocking he leapt to action and opened the door, beaming at the sight of Finn standing in the hallway with an armful of red and blue chip bags.

"Thought I'd dash by the vending machine real quick to buy some snacks. I know you liked Doritos, but couldn't remember your favorite flavor."

"You're a man after my own heart," Seth beamed as he led Finn inside, divesting him of the bags of chips. They sat down on the edge of the bed, Finn scanning the laminated room menu while Seth flicked through channels on the remote.

"Wow, does that say  _28 Days Later_  on there?" Finn looked up with interest.

"Yeah, says it's on in 10 minutes."

"Been ages since I've seen it in full. Wanna watch that?"

"Sure! Hold on..."

After a quick call to room service, they made themselves comfortable fluffing the pillows and propping their backs against the headboard. Seth laughed when Finn insisted on turning out all the lights "for that spooky horror movie ambiance."

He reached for one of the Doritos bags and shook it at Finn. "Cool ranch or nacho cheese?"

"Eh, not really into junk food."

Seth tried to tamp down his disappointment as he sighed and tore the Cool Ranch open, popping a few chips into his mouth as the opening title card flashed onscreen.

"Man, me and my brothers loved this movie when it came out," Finn said. "Got it on DVD and everything."

"You're not just saying that 'cause Cillian Murphy's Irish too, are you?" Seth smirked.

"Maaaaaaaaaaybe." Finn snickered. "Plus he has really nice eyes."

_So do you,_ Seth thought.

 

A knock on the door startled both men just as the movie protagonists were preparing for their journey from London to Manchester. Finn got up to answer the door and let room service in as Seth kept watching in rapt attention, eyes glued to the screen as he tightly hugged a pillow and finished the last of the Doritos. 

"Hey, Finn," Seth muttered during a lull in the action.

"Yeah?"

"Your ten-guy zombie apocalypse crew... am I on it?"

"Well, the list changes all the time depending if it's Romero zombies or fast mutant zombies, but I'd say you're workin' your way up there." 

Finn's cheeky smile shone bright amid the darkness of the room, a pleasant warmth building up in Seth's chest as they turned their attention back to the screen. They picked through their dinner as the suspense kept ramping up through the film, even screaming at a few jump scares. By the time the screen went black and started scrolling the closing credits, both men were left in a mute state of awe. 

"Man, that was such a sick movie," Seth said.

"Still holds up." Finn wiped his mouth with a napkin after a forkful of salad. "Sequel's okay, but not like this."

Seth hums in agreement as he gets up to turns the light back on, then reaches for the remote.

"Stay after the credits!" Finn shouted. "Wanna see if they left the alternate ending in there."

"There's an alternate ending? Never seen it."

"Yeah, sometimes they cut it for TV broadcasts. It's good, but kinda dark."

They sat through the credits, commenting on the creepy soundtrack until a black screen flashed with the words "... what if" at the bottom right.

"Wow, you weren't kidding," Seth spoke up after the scene ended. "That was fucking bleak."

"Yeah, I don't blame the test audiences for finding it too sad. Still an incredible ending though."

The TV was switched off as they cleared the food trays and Doritos wrappers from the bed. Afterward Finn let out a heavy yawn and stretched his arms outward. 

"I should probably get back. It's gettin' late and we both need our beauty sleep."

"You..." Seth cleared his throat. "You could sleep here if you want. I won't mind at all."

"Nah, I'll rest for a few minutes 'fore I—" Finn was already falling back onto the bed, crossing his arms and yawning once as he closes his eyes. Seth chuckled fondly before going to brush his teeth and get ready for sleep. As he emerged from the bathroom to turn out the lights, Finn was already fast asleep.

Seth carefully climbed in and slid between the sheets, avoiding the entire left-hand side of the bed occupied by his dozing companion.

"Good night Finn," he whispered softly, switching off the bedside lamp until the room was pitch-black.


End file.
